Month: October 2016

in a dream the apology I never gave  

“Ex Officio” a short haibun by Angele Ellis.

  thick dust the life we lived in other rooms

emptying her house all our resentments packed away    

she swings her cane as if it could cut flowers she planted and now cannot name . . . inside, a cousin seals another box

  showing my daughter how to cartwheel Indian Summer

drying laundry — the faded colors of twilight

  after sunset mountains become the sky a muezzin’s call       (originally appeared in Frogpond 38:3., Autumn 2015)

lifting my gaze to the last of the light chickadee song  

the blue pine’s gnarled roots — autumn loneliness

hunter’s moon darting through the forest pines  

burning bush what to become when I’m old

B positive even my blood type full of advice       (originally appeared in Modern Haiku, 45:3)

advised to deadhead the columbine I hesitate recalling cutting remarks never forced me to bloom  

moonlight thinned to a single strand– and still no word         (originally appeared in Not Asking What If, Muse-Pie Press, 2016)

ball four a pop can snaps & hisses  

  traffic stop the neon buddha tries to claim diplomatic immunity  

stop light a beggar feeds on traffic

Upset over news of refugees fleeing war and poverty I create one more wiping away the spider’s web       (originally appeared in What Light There

night of ghosts bumping in the bare branches the lost kite             (Included in A Dictionary of Haiku, AHA Books; 2nd Edition, 1993-2013)